Sweet Misery
by DarkBlysse
Summary: I have wait for it. I have to suffer. It's the least I can do for my sins... PWP, Lemon, UST.


**Title:** Sweet Misery  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Type:** Yaoi, PWP  
**Pairings:** Alfons Heiderich/Ed  
**Warnings:** Ed-centric, UST.  
_**A/N:**_ I wanted to do a centric piece for each of the Elric brothers, to display their kinks. So, here's the second one.

~~~;~;~;~;~;~;~;~~~

I have wait for it. I have to suffer. It's the least I can do for my sins...

Just like everything else in my life, I come so close that I can reach out and _touch_ it. But then it's ripped away from me. Only now... I'm tearing myself away from it. Because I don't deserve it in the least.

The nails of my flesh hand dig into my palm--so hard--and it stops me from falling, catches me before I hit the ground. I can't let myself slip. I have to have _control_. Your lips move faster over me and your tongue flicks at that spot just under the head of my shaft, making me tremble. Heat flashes through my body, but I make it stop in its course. I don't let it burn to my core, as it should be able to. As my body is begging me to let it do.

I must _resist_...

You feel my muscles tense, you see my face contort as I try to hold on, _hold back_. And you pull away and frown at me; you never like it when I do this. You always take it as an insult, a _challenge_, never understanding it. Even when I take the time to explain my strange perversion to you.

And challenge me you do. Down to every last nerve, you try to wear away at me and my control. Your fingers slide into me, thrusting hard and painful right away. You know the pain confuses me and sets me on edge, making it easier to _break_ me. Erringly, you think that I don't like it when you make my task harder, when you push me to the edge. But I love it. I thrive on it.

My back arches high off the bed as you hit that spot inside me, and I bite my lip. The coppery taste that floods my mouth distracts me, buying me precious, agonizing seconds. Every moment counts. The longer I suffer, the cleaner I become. The less sin I have left in me...

_Oh_, how I need to suffer.

I sigh when you remove your fingers from me. But it's not a happy sound. It's not in relief. The torture is even worse when I'm lying here with nothing to excite my nerves. The absence of pleasure is just as bad as the presence of it. My body, betraying my mind, screams to be touched again, to be filled. I _ache_... thrusting up into the air and I spread my legs for you. You always take this as a sign that I'm giving in. Breaking down.

I'm not.

I'm getting what I need. More of the delicious torture that you know just how to give me.

"_Alfons!_"

Your name slips off my tongue as easily as your slick length pushes into me. And it makes my heart race just the same, too. Any release I can get, other than the one my body truly needs, helps me to endure this. The closer my body gets to its climax, the louder my moans are, the more my back arches, the harder I grip your shoulders. I always leave bruises on you, but you never seem to mind.

Maybe that's your kink, just as this is mine...

Desperate hips crash into my own, almost painfully. _Almost. _I grit my teeth as you drive right into my nerves, slowly unraveling my concentration. My reserve.

Can I let go yet? I ask myself. Can I allow myself this pleasure yet? Or will this be another night where you have to try again, after you've come?

Your well-aimed thrusts answer for me. Tonight, you're not going to let me be as stubborn as I'd like to be. You're going to drag me, gasping and screaming--oh, how I _scream_, when I finally get release--right over the edge with you. Whether I want it or not.

But that's just another punishment for me, being forced into this by you. Not being allowed to do it as I like. It's not as good as the suffering, but it enhances it. Makes me cleaner. Banishes just the tiniest bit more of my sin.

"Edward!"

Your thrusts have lost all rhythm. They serve only to bring you to completion now. Your cries echo through my body, making me shudder violently. I'm grasping at every thread of persistence I have. But it's not enough, and I slip. As your hot seed fills me, I'm thrown into oblivion with you, screaming myself raw. Bruising your flesh more as I grasp harder at your sweat-slicked skin.

My eyes are closed as I come hard, covering both of us. But I know that you're smiling. You always do when you break me. A breath escapes me as you fall down onto me, embracing me. Your lips utter words of love to me, they gently caress my skin. I'm not paying attention to it, though. All I can think of is how much longer I can last next time...

This _sweet misery_ is addicting... even if it shames me so.


End file.
